Plunge
by WingsOfTheYatagarasu
Summary: On what should be one of the best dates they've had, Steven comes out of the night with an empty space in bed between them and their partner and a secret brought out of Wallace by the haze of alcohol. (OriginShipping, mentions of past GracefulShipping, oneshot)


_**author's note:** please let me rest now because this took forever, also please forbid me from ever writing originshipping again_

* * *

Steven breathed a heavy sigh as they took in the aroma of their drink, something that seemed to be their one break from the thick smell of alcohol that pervaded the restaurant's air. With golden lights above and sleek, polished wooden tables spaced evenly around the room, a marble-topped bar adorning the center of the back wall, a _stunning_ view of Castelia City outside the windows lining another wall, and the chatter of the idle rich echoing against wood-panelled walls, the place was nothing more or less than _classy._ In one corner, left of the bar, the music of a jazz band broke through the sound of the crowd, a touch that Steven appreciated. It made them think back to their own training as a pianist over the years, from starting as a young child to keeping their music as a hobby well into their adulthood.

As they sat at a table close to the band, taking a sip from the glass in front of them - A glass of one of the place's few non-alcoholic drinks, a rich iced coffee that they'd grown immensely fond of during their few visits - Steven eyed their partner, who sat across from them. Unlike them, Wallace had a taste for the restaurant's drinks, and it showed in what they held: A glass, one they held with a delicate grip (Arceus forbid they spill such a well-crafted drink) and took in the aroma of before taking their first sip of the night. Had they not been in such a formal setting and had they not been so intent on making sure they had every last drop of the white lady in their hands, Steven was sure Wallace would have placed their feet on the table by then, letting the world know that they'd claimed a little piece of territory like the royalty they were. (And indeed, with the jewelry lining their neck, black pearls and malachite to accent the white of the outfit they'd chosen, they certainly _looked_ like royalty in that moment. That wasn't even mentioning the engraved earrings that they'd worn - Iron, they'd always said the earrings were made of, and it always surprised Steven that such a material would be used for something so small.)

While they'd been nervous coming in, Steven was sure that the feeling stabbing at their stomach was little more than hunger by that point. When Wallace glanced at them again, they placed their drink down, flashing Steven a look of genuine _concern._

"Steven," Wallace said, only glancing away for a moment, "Is everything all right?"

Steven shook their head, replying to Wallace's look with a sheepish expression.

"Ah, yes," they replied, hoping they could hear themself over the noise around them, "It's nothing too concerning. I've been busy...Perhaps too busy."  
There was a brief pause between the two. Steven had known things would come to this. Wallace had a knack for seeing if anyone was in any sort of pain, and they'd no doubt noticed the occasional wince from Steven that'd come from their refusal to feed themself for so long.

Steven's words came out nearly twice as fast as their earlier ones when they finally confessed.

"...I haven't eaten since yesterday."

"You haven't?!" Wallace gasped, "...Then allow me to foot our bill tonight. Order away. Whatever you might want, I'm willing to provide."

A smirk crossed Steven's face, and they leaned in over the table, just enough that when Wallace leaned forward, their noses were just shy of touching.

"I'll have to take you up on that offer, then." Steven pulled themself away, glancing down at the nearly untouched menu in front of them. There was more than just the smell of alcohol wafting through the building. There were numerous aromas that mingled with the smell, scents that had been present since the two had walked in but that Steven hadn't paid much mind to at first. Suddenly, however, the potpourri of smells became all too apparent to them, and they were reminded how out of the ordinary the place they were in was.

Maybe the portion sizes were a bit light on some of the dishes, but Steven was being _treated._ They would take Wallace up on their offer in that moment, letting the smells around them, smells of soft grilled fish and freshly toasted bread, and, on occasion, sweet smells of someone's dessert, finally find their way to themself and Wallace.

Arceus, they were _famished._ Steven made a mental note, a note that would soon go ignored like every last time they'd made that mental note, not to let themself skip so many meals like they had over the past twenty-four hours.

"Hm, I always have to think here," Steven mused, "I don't think we've been here enough for me to have a regular dish. This is a dilemma…"

"Should I flag down some of the staff?" Wallace asked, "I'm sure we could get a recommendation. That might be best...And not to mention, I might need another drink soon."

Looking up from their menu, Steven realized that Wallace had _already_ almost finished their first cocktail. Anxiety briefly welled up in them at the sight, but they had to _breathe._ The most that'd happen was Wallace having one too many drinks that night, and if that was the case, the two would simply return to their room for the night. Wallace would get as they usually did - Far more dramatic, far more affectionate, far more prone to the tears that came with drama and affection - and Steven would still hold them close like they always did, because that was how the love between the two was. Looking over the menu, Steven heaved a sigh.

Though not ever one for meat, they had to admit, they were curious about how the place's specialty dish tasted. It was Basculin, something neither they nor Wallace had tasted much of, and it seemed perfectly fitting for when the two were indulging as they were.

"Actually," Steven continued, grinning, "I've decided. If you're going to treat me, then I hope you're ready to cover the specialty."

"You don't mean-!" Wallace's reaction came out as a feigned dramatic gasp before they settled down, placing an empty glass on the table. "The smoked Basculin...I thought you had no interest in meat."

"Fish is fine," Steven replied, glancing around at the wait staff hurrying around them and Wallace, "It sounds incredible, actually. Are you going to order anything, then?"

Gesturing to flag down a waitress, Wallace nodded briefly at Steven.

"I'll have the same, then," they chuckled, "And for that matter, another white lady. You know it's an old favorite of mine."  
"Indeed...Though I don't see how anything with any part of a raw egg sounds appealing." Steven's words came out just as lighthearted as their partner's did. "But then again, our tastes differ so dramatically...Sometimes it's easy to forget that."

The idle chatter between the two continued well after they'd ordered, only stopped when the rich smell of fish and the sweet sauce it'd been lovingly cooked in met Steven's sensitive nose. When they took in the aroma, the light fruity smell mixing with the smell of well-cooked Basculin flesh, they swore they felt themself _salivating_ in anticipation. They couldn't suppress a growl from their stomach when the dish was placed down in front of them, something that had caused a soft flush to form on their face. They'd been looking forward to such a meal for so long; it was hard to _not_ feel a little embarrassed at their own excitement and their body's desperation for a meal.

The fillet had been carefully cooked until it'd taken on a pleasant light brown color, and the sauce that had been drizzled over it, a rich burnt orange in color, smelled of any manner of berries, but most notably Liechi and Leppa. In a neat row atop the fillet were slices of Leppa Berries and what Steven could only assume were _Enigma_ Berries. They'd heard plenty about the taste, about how they held a spiciness that few other foods in the world held. Steven hoped their father's warnings about the berry that they'd heard so long ago wouldn't deter them too much.

In front of them, Wallace thanked their watress before cutting off a small bite of their own fillet, complete with part of the sliced Enigma Berry, and quickly brought the forkful to their mouth, glancing towards Steven as if to make _sure_ they were watching, and taking their first bite. After swallowing, Wallace took a sip from their second drink of the night, something they'd (thankfully) been enjoying much slower than their first. They'd been glancing towards Steven's dish for that moment, and it didn't take long before, in that single moment before Steven could take their first bite, Wallace reached over with their own fork and cut off a bite, holding it up as if to beckon Steven forward with it.

"Wh-What are you-?!" Steven gasped, "Are you just...You _tease,_ give me that back."

Wordlessly, Wallace moved their hand forward, deftly keeping the small bite of fish on their fork, before Steven finally leaned in, taking the bite off Wallace's fork themself. The taste was suddenly _overwhelming;_ while it had been spicy, the fish's mild taste still broke its way through the mixture of flavors. A delicate sweetness seemed to wrap itself around the entire bite, however, even with a bit of Enigma Berry on the forkful Wallace had offered. Steven found themself savoring the taste for a _long_ while before they swallowed.

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Wallace asked playfully, "You're _adorable_ when you eat like that, you know."

"Hush, you." A breathy laugh escaped Steven before they returned the mischeivous look Wallace had been offering them. "But that's not to say I wouldn't mind you continuing that."

Once again, the silence returned between them. They leaned in towards each other again, and Steven pushed their dish towards the center of the table, allowing Wallace a chance to easily reach it. Once again, Wallace cut off a bite and offered it forward, with Steven eagerly taking it after their first taste. It felt almost _impossible_ to keep themself from simply _devouring_ the dish all at once, but with what Wallace was doing...The anticipation had made it that much more _exciting._ On their third bite, Steven found themself keeping the fork in their mouth for a long moment before they slowly pulled away, having to reach for their napkin before their face became _too_ much of a mess. Wiping a trickle of sauce away from their lip, Steven observed as Wallace took the chance to take another few sips of their cocktail before returning to the partner they'd been _ravishing._

It continued for what felt like an eternity. A beautiful, _intimate_ eternity that Steven hardly wanted to leave. Everything had been perfect, from the blissful glow of the light above to the soft music from the nearby band, and topping this all off was something Steven had _needed_ to feel that night: A feeling of _fullness._ The fish had proven to be wonderfully filling, and by the time Wallace had, between taking their own bites from their own fillet and between the occasional sip from their cocktail, fed Steven the final bit of their dish, Steven could only sit back, taking a few deep, shuddering breaths.

"Oh, Wallace," they whispered, "I think that was all I needed from tonight. Thank you so much."

Wallace sat with yet another cocktail in hand as they looked back to Steven, grinning.

"How are you feeling, then? Better?" they asked.

"My waistcoat's feeling a bit snug," Steven joked, "...But honestly, I feel wonderful. Once you've finished your last drink, let's head back down. I think I just need to lay down and digest right now…"

"Then I'll be quick." Wallace was indeed quick, downing the last of their cocktail in a few swigs. They still managed to surprise Steven, however, when they'd ordered their next one. It had been clear, after their fourth, that they needed to be stopped in that moment - Soon, Wallace had leaned against the table, their face flushed and their eyes pointed straight at Steven. Their face had said what they thought in that moment: Four drinks in, and Steven was still the most absolutely beautiful person they'd ever laid eyes on.

There was something else in their face, however. A look of wistful nostalgia, emotions only brought out when the alcohol had taken a tight hold on their mind, barbed wire wrapped around their head so that their thoughts would bleed out bit by bit. They'd notice the wounds the next morning, and they'd know that only luck would determine whether or not their wounds would worsen with time. When the hangover lifted their metallic crown of thorns, what would be left? Would the barbs have even made their way in? Steven could only hold their breath and await what became of their partner from said partner's drunken words.

"Is something the matter, Wallace?" Steven asked cautiously, "You're awfully quiet suddenly."

Wallace leaned back in their chair, finally _actually_ placing their feet over the table. Suddenly, eyes began to pierce through the two. People _recognized_ Hoenn's Champions, and they definitely recognized when one of them had been drinking. Steven glanced around, trying to gesture for people to look away before they spoke up again.

"...You're not looking very well," Steven sighed, "Do you think we could step away from here for a moment?"

Suddenly, Steven worried that _they'd_ be the one paying.

"I'll tell you what's th'matter," Wallace mumbled, before their voice suddenly rose back into their usual loud, brash tone when they were in such a state, "Y'look like...You...You look like her, Steven. S-So much like her!"

 _Her._ Steven thought back to what Wallace had been through before. Back to the year before when they'd speak so _glowingly_ to them and to the press about how _lovely_ their girlfriend had been. Back when they'd chosen to court Winona at a League gathering, shocked that she'd accepted their advances at all. Steven could hardly believe it themself - Did they truly carry the same look she had long ago?

Was _this_ why the two had broken things off?

"Wallace, please. We should-"  
Steven was quickly cut off as Wallace stood, still keeping their arms pressed to the table for support, and spoke up again, practically _announcing_ something to the room.

"But y...You're not Winona." Wallace's words were slowly turning into a violent _cavalcade,_ and Steven couldn't tell if their words were simply remnants of feelings from the breakup only a few months before or if this was simply what their mind was turning to in the heat of such a moment. Regardless of where these words were coming from, there was something about Wallace that _frightened_ them then. Something _big_ was going to come of this. It was why Steven found themself standing in that moment, as if they were suddenly _desperate_ to get Wallace to simply _shut their mouth._ "You're not'er! Jus...Jussiddown, Steven! She wasn' like this! She din'hafta...D-Didn't hafta _start_ before she left! You're not...You woul'n't do it!"

Steven shouldn't have asked what they did. They were at a turning point in the night, and anything Steven said could have changed _everything._

And change everything their question did.

"...Start _what?"_

Tears began to escape Wallace's eyes. They'd turned into the mess Steven had expected them to, and in an instant, their anger seemed to simply _fade away._ With nothing left in them but their usual tears, Wallace slowly slurred out their answer.

"Sss...Seein' people!" Wallace sobbed out, "Seeing _new_ people! Y'know what that was like?! L-Learning she wasn' like...Wasn'...Just wasn' _Winona?!"_

Wallace quieted for a moment. Murmurs becan to course through the room. The staff had taken notice of this, as well, and had approached the two quietly, shooting Steven looks that could only be described as dirty. Steven held a hand up before walking over to Wallace, wrapping their arm around Wallace's back and pulling them away before simply asking for their bill.

Once the bill had been paid (still on Wallace's dollar - Wallace wouldn't dare go back on a promise, even when they were as drunk as they were, and especially not after what they'd said, Steven was sure, and if they didn't agree in the morning, Steven would gladly pay them back), the two left the restaurant. When the two exited, they stepped into a small hallway, soon reaching an elevator. Surprisingly, they ended up being the only two in said elevator, which had been lined with wood panelling across the walls and pale tile across its botton and filled with a thick scent of lavender that seemed to be a bit _too much_ for Steven. Wallace was leaning against their arm for support, with their legs suddenly looking far too weak for them. It was as if a stray breeze would knock them down.

"'M fine," Wallace insisted, "'M okay, Steven. 'M...'M okay, honest!"

Steven tried to ignore Wallace's statement as they tapped a single elevator button, letting a sharp chime echo through the empty, silent chamber before the two began their descent. A faint, mechanical buzz hit Steven's ears, and it _unnerved_ them. It shouldn't have - They weren't alone, they had their lover leaning against them just like several times - but a sort of raw anger was slowly swelling in their chest. Such accusations...They couldn't tell if they'd believed them or not, but they _knew_ such a thing would be all over the tabloids. What had just happened, something told Steven it would be _ruinous_ for Winona's reputation.

Maybe it was just the anxiety that stabbed at their chest. Maybe, when they returned to their room, they'd just have to dig out the meds again and call it good. They'd been warned, time and time again, by anyone who knew what they were on. _It's addictive. You don't_ really _need it, do you?_ Perhaps the worst of all, however, was the nagging feeling in the back of their head that seemed to take the form of their father's voice, quietly telling them to moderate themself just because he didn't want to see his only child fall to their medication like his wife had to alcohol long ago.

Sighing, Steven turned to Wallace.

The feeling only worsened when they looked to their partner. Wallace's soft, almost _mournful_ expression persisted as another chime resounded through the elevator, and the two stepped out onto the floor they'd been staying on: The seventh floor. It hardly provided much of a view of the city the two were staying in, but it was a hotel room of the highest quality Steven's money could buy, especially when they could afford to burn some of Devon Co.'s money.

The hallways smelled faintly of cigarettes. It was a smell that seemed to waft from every inch of the beige walls and tan carpet and from behind every door. It was a sign of the hotel's age - It was young, as far as hotels went, but it had been through enough years (about a decade and a half, Steven believed) that it'd picked up the smell from so many past patrons. Steven's feet glided over the carpet's geometric patterns, and they practically dragged the oddly quiet (aside from the frequent hiccups, anyway) Wallace behind them as they walked to the hallway's end, turning the three corners until they'd both walked around the hotel's perimeter.

In front of the two of them, a large oak door stood, and beside it a plate that marked it as their room, a plate that read "Room 300." Steven reached into their coat pocket, pulling out a card key and swiping it next to the door handle. With a resounding _click,_ the door was unlocked, and Steven could finally allow both themself and Wallace a chance to rest.

Finally, they had a breath of fresh air.

It didn't reassure Steven at all.

Wallace staggered in beside Steven, and only then did they finally speak.

"Sss...Steeeven. S-Steven. Oh, S-Steven…" Wallace's slurred affections broke the silence like a sledgehammer to glass. "...Oh, _darling!_ You haven'...You haven' changed a bit!"

The sudden outburst caught Steven off-guard, enough that they'd taken their hand away from Wallace, something that caused the latter to stagger back until they hit the door behind them, not hard enough to injure but certainly enough that they'd have complained, at least if they'd been _sober._ This time, however, all Steven could do was rush over to grab Wallace and carry them to their bed - A sleek, sturdy bed, adorned with clean white bedding that still smelled _fresh._ With little urging, Steven was finally able to get their partner to lay down in that moment, helping to rest Wallace's head against a pillow before turning their head to the side. Steven lay next to them, quickly unbuttoning their waistcoat (they'd only been half-joking when they said it'd started to feel snug, if the way they exhaled a sigh of relief when they took it off was any indication) and neatly folding it, alongside their coat and shirt, and setting everything aside on the large bag they'd taken for the trip. They lay next to Wallace in that single moment of peace with little on - Only an undershirt and their boxers when they finally settled in.

It didn't take long for Wallace to speak up again.

"I told you, S-Steven." Wallace sat up slowly, only to fall back down, this time falling towards Steven and landing on top of them. "I said I was okay. Was-was that all I'd had to tell you, mmm?"

 _"Wallace,"_ Steven growled, "Get off. I don't...Get off of me."

"'M saying you're jus'..." Suddenly, Wallace struggled to find any words. The glow of a lamp beside the bed provided a clear look at their face, however - Suddenly, they'd started _crying._ "...I di'n't mean that. P-Please. It's not...I wasn' trying t-to hurt…"

"I said _off,"_ Steven repeated firmly, finally pushing Wallace to the side, "I need to make a call."

The thought of making a call to Winona...Steven swore it made their heart stop. What time was it in Hoenn, even? How much time had passed since the two started their date? Steven sighed, turning to the clothes folded to the side of the bed, placed neatly atop their bag, and fished through the pile until they finally reached the pocket they'd left their Pokénav. They didn't bother to fold their clothes again, not when they had two important tasks.

One, making sure Wallace didn't choke in their sleep, considering how much they were calming down in the moment.

Two, trying to negotiate _something_ with the Gym Leader that had been mentioned at the end of their date.

Breathing deeply to try and calm themself, Steven walked around to the other side of the bed, holding Wallace's face delicately in their hands as they turned Wallace's head to the side. Wallace hardly protested as this was done, at most letting out soft whimpers to try and stop it.

Upon opening their Pokénav Plus, Steven took note of the time: 12:37. Afternoon over in Hoenn. From what Steven could recall, Winona would be on her lunch break at that time. What a way the call would be to interrupt _that._

With shaky fingers, Steven dialed Winona's number, still keeping an eye on Wallace.

A repeated ringback tone hit their ears again and again, Steven glanced towards the rest of the room. The pale curtains, marked with thin golden patterns on their edges, had been closed over the nearby window. Mounted on the wall was a massive TV, one that Steven knew they'd have to use that night, if only to keep themself awake so that they _knew_ Wallace was okay, and it...Irked them. Having to take care of Wallace after they'd been drinking was nothing new to Steven, but after what had just happened, suddenly there was a bitter edge to everything happening.

In the low light of the room, between the tones, Steven could hear the city. The rush of traffic outside, and no doubt the rush of people.

Then, a familiar voice.

"Hello? Steven?"

Steven's words seized in their throat when they attempted to speak to her. _No!_ they thought, _Not this time! Not now!_

Their words, when they finally came out, were rushed and sloppy. They'd started to trip over their words, but they could still _speak,_ at the very least.

"W...Winona," Steven breathed, "Winona, something's gone wrong."

"...Wrong?" On the other end, Steven heard what sounded like Winona placing something down. "Whatever this might be...Was it Wallace who said something, by chance?"

Steven nearly leapt back at this question.

"H-How did you…?!" Steven stammered, "Yes, they did say something. I don't...I don't know how to tell you this, it's...Things are going to be busy in Fortree soon, I'm sure."

A light laugh resounded from the other end. Wallace seemed to stir in that moment, and it was enough to cause Steven to head over themself, hoping they wouldn't be fishing vomit out of Wallace's mouth by the end of the night.

As Steven placed a hand on Wallace's throat to reaffirm that the latter still had a pulse at all, Winona continued.

"Instinct," Winona said, "We _did_ date for months."

Suddenly, Winona's matter-of-fact tone turned nervous. Her voice quieted, even dropping an octave when she spoke again.

"...But what do you mean when you say it's going to be busy?"

Steven took their hand away from Wallace's throat, sighing.

"We were out at dinner, and after a good several drinks...Wallace said you'd been…" Steven's voice was barely audible after they paused to breathe. "...Seeing other people while the two of you were dating."

Steven swore at least a minute had passed before Winona spoke again.

"...We can't talk about this now," Winona finally replied, and Steven _knew_ they were hearing fear in her voice, "If you're up early, I'd like to talk then. I need you awake and listening when we talk about this matter."  
"...I understand." There was nothing else Steven could say. Clearly, Winona, from the shallow breaths she was letting out on the other end, was absolutely _terrified_ of such a secret. All this proved to Steven was that this was _true._ She _had_ been seeing others. Steven nearly dropped their Pokénav when they'd heard Winona speak then. Something had gone terribly, _terribly_ wrong between her and Wallace.

Anger flared up in Steven's chest again.

"...And if I may make a final request," Winona added on, "...Please take care of Wallace for me."

Did Winona even hold any ill will towards Wallace for this? Steven didn't want to blame her - She'd been _cheating._ In the end, that was the truth. Winona, the last person _anyone_ would expect, had actually cheated on her last partner. The breakup had already made regional news, and suddenly, Steven could see their names in every gossip column across Hoenn once word broke out.

Before they could say another word, Winona whispered a "thank you" and hung up without another word.

Steven found their way back to the other side of their bed, taking the TV remote from atop a nearby dresser as they walked over. The bed was large enough for there to be at least a little space between them and Wallace. Closing their Pokénav and placing it with the rest of their belongings, Steven crawled beneath the sheets, looking to their nightstand. They _still_ hadn't turned that well-crafted glass lamp off, and they doubted they ever would, not with Wallace there.

Steven heaved out a breath as they turned the TV on, flicking through channels. Voice after voice and sound after sound hit their ears as they simply tried to find _something_ that'd keep their interest that night. They knew that eventually, every sound would become static to them, however.

They just needed to focus on something that wasn't what had just happened. Something that wasn't the anger that still flared up in them at the mere _sight_ of Wallace in the state they were in. Something that wasn't the fact that they, as Champion, could potentially have to take action against Wallace in the future. Perhaps even they themself would be punished for simply getting involved - Of course, if that was what happened, Steven would fight tooth and nail against it. They hadn't meant to become involved in such personal issues, especially when such personal issues were enough to ruin reputations, possibly entire _careers._

Steven stopped flicking through channels for a moment when they noticed a familiar face on TV. Given the time in Hoenn, it was only natural that there would be contests broadcasted, and what better contest to broadcast than one with Hoenn's shining star, Lisia. Steven _knew_ they could focus on that. On the girl that they'd known for some time, the girl who walked onstage with the charm and grace that Wallace carried themself with so often, and on the Altaria behind her, ruffling his feathers because Lisia _knew_ audiences thought that was cute.

Maybe cuteness wasn't Steven's preferred contest - They'd much preferred the rugged image of toughness contests - but this _was_ Lisia. Steven realized that she wasn't the only familiar one in this contest, either. Walking onstage with a Pikachu behind her, one dressed in a nearly identical pink outfit to her, was _May._ She'd come so far in contests, they always noted. She was not only strong in battle, but, with the image ahead of them of her and her Pikachu making their first appeal as proof, May had become Hoenn's next great contest star. After May disappeared backstage, however, a commercial break began, something that allowed Steven a moment to look over to Wallace.

On any other day, even at such a late hour, Wallace would be wide awake to watch Lisia perform. At that moment, however, Wallace was asleep like the dead, and the threat of them simply choking in their sleep was still hanging over their head. Steven asked themself a simple question:

What would Lisia think of such a situation?

Laying back, Steven could hold nothing close but empty space. They wouldn't touch Wallace in such a moment. Much as they'd honor Winona's request, Wallace's words had brought to mind the question of whether or not the relationship was worth it anymore.

If Winona had asked herself this…

Steven would find out whether or not that was the case soon, they knew.

Their body ached for touch, but at the same time, Steven recoiled at the thought of holding Wallace close anymore. In a flash, Steven had grabbed a pillow and began to hold onto it harder than they ever had their partner. Soft, shallow breaths escaped them. Above hot, reddened cheeks, tears began to cascade, staining the pillows and bedding below as they trickled down the Champion's face.

The sounds of a contest broadcast returned to Steven's ears. Their vision had blurred, and when they looked up, suddenly, the world felt...Distant. A pulse pounded through their ears as they sat up again, trying to keep their eyes focused on the TV ahead of them.

The empty space became apparent again. That was all there was, Steven realized. They lay back down and turned their back to Wallace, but it wasn't long before they stole a glance at their partner again.

Steven noticed that they'd failed to remove any of Wallace's jewelry. It was a miracle they hadn't hurt themself with everything they wore. The necklace...Steven remembered giving Wallace the necklace. It was a gift from early on in the relationship, from the date that had solidified the relationship between the two. Steven remembered such a date fondly. It'd been a long walk through Mossdeep until the two had eventually returned to the cliffs near Steven's house, sitting down together in the afternoon sun. Steven had given the necklace then.

However, the earrings were what had _truly_ caught their attention.

They were engraved. Engraved with patterns not unlike those of the mythical Rayquaza, shaped like small feathers and crafted with incredible care. As Steven finally returned their attention to the contest ahead of them, their mind wandered. They could _focus_ again. Maybe that wouldn't be the last time they cried that night, but it was enough that they could watch their contest in peace and try to keep their mind busy.

But their mind still wandered as their partner lay asleep beside them, eternally unmoving.

Aside from the TV, there was complete silence in the room. Steven turned the lamp at their bedside off. Maybe in darkness, the space beside them wouldn't feel as lonely, and maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to stay awake through the night in peace, trying to keep their attention on any show they could so that they'd keep Wallace safe.

Just as Winona had asked.

In that moment, Steven remembered what Wallace had always said about the earrings, and a smile crossed their face, though even they couldn't tell how genuine it was.

 _"They're made from Skarmory's feathers."_


End file.
